


Not being able to say no doesn't mean it's a yes

by baekkieony



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Consent Issues, Dark, Drunk Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Hatred, Sideswipe doesn't know if it's rape or not, dubcon, not being able to say no doesn't mean it's a yes, rape is a serious issue, triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 23:58:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17838500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baekkieony/pseuds/baekkieony
Summary: The sweetest frame sometimes hides the darkest thoughts.





	Not being able to say no doesn't mean it's a yes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ladydragon76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/gifts).



> This is not something for sensitiv nerves; it will get graphic. I do want to make clear that in no way I support, condone or encourage rape or anything close to it. Sex and other stuff is only fun when it's consensual (kissing counts too!) and not being able to say no because you're drunk or whatever doesn't make it a yes. Never take consent for granted.
> 
> I also chose to ignore the fact that the twins normally have a bond which makes it unable to feel or experience anything alone, so it doesn't exist here.  
> I hope it's okay that I gift this fanfiction to you, since your stories have inspired me to write again and I really must say that most took me by my spark. I adore what and how you write and wanted to thank you for that.

**The first time could have been an accident**.

Sideswipe was sitting in the common room, studying the datapad about the newest raid the Decepticons did and consuming his mid cycle energon. After a while, he stood up to get his joints moving again after he finished his morning monitor duty and he was also scheduled to patrol after his mid-cycle energon.

The common room seemed fairly empty, probably due to the fact that most spec-ops were on a mission, excluding Mirage and Hound and Blaster were on the run trying to follow some of Soundwave's symbionts who caused troubles at the last raid again. Except for him and the lonely energon dispenser, there were only Trailbreaker, Gears, Smokescreen and Bluestreak filling the room and everyone seemed to be occupied with something important, because the room practically drowned in silence. Only Bluestreak noticed his gaze sweeping around the room and after he smiled at him, Sideswipe shot a smile back. He really liked Bluestreak, even though his babbling could be annoying sometimes, but right now, he seemed content with the quiet.

Sudden shuffling ripped him out of his thoughts, announcing that their shifts had started (except his) and they seemed to get ready to leave the room. It almost could have been an accident. The slightest brush of a hand on his aft, touch like a ghost and when Sideswipe spun around to look, there was nobody even close enough to have touched him. He frowned, searching the crowd for Sunstreaker or Ratchet, someone he was close with, but both were absent.

When he saw all of them leaving, Bluestreak and Smokescreen being the last, Bluestreak waving a goodbye, he almost was sure that something in Smokescreen's eyes had glinted. The small mischievous smirk he became as a goodbye did nothing to ease his feelings, but he shrugged his shoulders, dismissing the thought that someone might have touched his aft with nothing more than a change of his train of thought and went back to reading the data pad and sipping his energon quietly. The feeling of being watched stayed the rest of the day though and Sideswipe would have been writhing with unease if he could have heard Smokescreen's laughter after he left the common room.

 

**The second time could have been an accident, but Sideswipe knew it wasn’t.**

He was on monitor duty again, boring himself out of his mind by watching Inferno trying to hold back his tears watching a soap on TV. He himself had picked up the habit of watching the Human’s weird soap operas – or so they called them – but he still asked himself how one could get so invested in this like some did. He’d bet that some of them would even leave battle if they’d miss a new episode.

He chuckled quietly to himself as he imagined Bumblebee running from the battlefield in a haste to get to the TV screen as soon as possible. The army could get quite amusing at times, especially in dull cycles like this and he felt the urging need to entertain himself.

Just when he had made himself comfortable with his pedes up on the table, bringing up the newest episode of “As The Kitchen Sinks”, he heard someone entering the room. He thought of switching the screen back to the cameras, but as he turned around and could only see Red Alert who was taking over the monitors next to him, he decided to do nothing. He’d change if Red Alert started to bother him.

He soon heard another mech enter the room, but was too engrossed in his episode to turn around and see who it was. They seemed to talk to Red Alert for quite a while and he went back to fully concentrating on his episode, who was nearing the final sequences.

That’s why it took him even more off guard when he suddenly felt a servo placing himself over his interfacing panel, familiar EM field surrounding him and an even more familiar voice whisper in his ear that he could not quite match to a mech. He could only listen, frozen in his seat.

"Better watch out, or someone might see you trip earlier than you do”.

Before Sideswipe managed to turn around or tell the mech to get his disgusting hands of him, the presence was gone and he jumped out of his seat, opening the door to send a hasty gaze down the corridor. The only person being on it was Smokescreen, coming towards his direction, a nasty smirk on his face.

“Watcha’ looking for? Might it be me, my dearest Sideswipe?”, the sarcastic undertone was clear and Sideswipe sometimes really wanted to slap the mech. “I might be, but even if I didn’t you don’t have to talk to me in this voice, aft”. With a narrowing frown, he shot a glare at Smokescreen before slamming the door closed again and going back to his seat, only to face a confused Red who was watching him intently.

And then it lit up in his head.

“Red?”. “Yes, Sideswipe?”. “Who was the mech you had been talking too?”. Red seemed to be confused even more about the question. “It was Smokescreen, but during the conversation, Bluestreak also came to get his datapad about Praxian literature back, but that was only for a few seconds”.

_Smokescreen. He knew it._

Sideswipe only made an acknowledging grunt and went back to focus on his work, but he really needed to talk with Sunstreaker about this. Or Ratchet. He made himself an internal reminder not to forget it and started the last bits of his episode.

Oh, how he wished he hadn’t forgotten.

 

 **If Sideswipe knew how his insecurities are fuelling his harassers fantasies,** **he’d probably be shocked** _._

_Even though he might knew by know who he was harassed by and was his intentions were, the mech was sure he was better than that. Too good to make Sideswipe even suspect a thing. He was also sure that he wouldn’t talk with Ratchet or Sunstreaker about this, because he’d either forget or **he** made sure that he wouldn’t talk with anyone again. _

_Something about Sideswipe always got him. Might it be the cruelty he wasn’t able to execute, might it be the snide sneer he always had on him or his charisma he knew to play out when needed. Everyone always fell for him, even though there was really nothing special or talented about him. Just more canonfodder._

_The mech smirked in the mirror. He might be jealous of the admiration for Sideswipe, but he was one step ahead. He had his cool calculating mind, running hot on the thought of Sideswipe writhing underneath him. Of making him cry and bleed._

_He tsked at the mirror. He honestly didn’t know what others see in him. Just another brute to be taken down to earth and he had made it his task to do so._

_Prowl probably be proud of his tactics._

 

**The third time was rape.**

When Sideswipe opened the door to the common room a few evenings after the last (already forgotten) incident, he was greeted by loud noise, music being blasted from speakers that must have been sponsored by Blaster, the room reeking of high grade and mech all around, most close to being absolutely wasted.

After standing there for a few minutes in shock, he smirked, spotted the next cube of high grade and decided to make this evening _his_ evening.

A few hours later he wouldn't have to be able to help in combat even if he wanted to. He was way beyond being overcharged and _slaaaag, this brew is goooood_. Sideswipe giggled at his state and thoughts as he made (read: staggered) his way to the washracks, because he really needed a good shower.

After a good ten minutes of trying to find the right out of two doors, he decided to just go for it and opened the one closer to him. To his luck, it were the washracks and he closed (read: tried to close) the door relived.

He swayed over to the nearest stall, turning on the hot solvent and just let himself fall on the ground in a heap to melt under the solvent. That was probably why he didn’t notice the mech coming through the only half-closed door, locking it behind him and creeping on the lightest pedes towards him.

He only knew there was someone else in this room with him when he felt a familiar EM-Field engulfing him from behind, hand sneaking around his waist to prod at his interface cover and other having a firm hold around his throat.

“Did you miss me, Sideswipe, hm?”. Sideswipe could feel the grin on his neck the mech was mouthing along. “Were you a good boy for me?”, the prodding at his interface cover was getting intenser. “Will you be a good boy for me by opening those covers for me? I don’t think someone like you needs them”.

Since Sideswipe was so completely out of it, it took him close to a minute to realize what the mech’s intentions were, no, what _Smokescreens_ intentions were, but then he began to struggle in the mech’s hard grip, but even he himself knew that he was weak and vulnerable right now.

“Wait! Let me go, you dick! You aren’t allowed to touch me!”, his words were slurred and held no real resistance behind them, because he just couldn’t bring up the strength.

The other mech only laughed at that and made a tsked noise. “Tsk tsk, we both know you want this more than me. Don’t you spread your legs for everyone? Heard you only made it here because Optimus thinks you have a nice valve and now I want to test that for myself”, the laugh at the end made Sideswipe shiver, because it had the sound of pure evil in it. The prodding fingers went deeper into the seems, feeling for the manual release.

The next thing he knew was blinding, white pain, because the mech had ripped his interface cover from it’s gears. The cry of pain hollered through the empty washracks and Sideswipe couldn’t stop screaming, because he knew he was in trouble and he knew no one would hear them and he just _couldn’t_ say no, even though he wanted to so badly.

He was shoved onto the ground face first, aft in the air and he heard the telltale “click” of a retracting plate. He felt panic wail up and he tried to struggle again, but the mech was too strong.

“Please, you don’t have to do this, please”, he whispered through the silence, but the mech only laughed. “But who would show you your place then? This is right where you belong slut and you should learn that not everybody thinks you’re the superstar of everything. You’re not better than me or anyone else”.

Then the mech shoved his pressurized spike into Sideswipe’s raw valve. It hurt badly, he could feel his rim tearing around the edges and something in him broke.

He knew he didn’t have the strength to get out of this, so he tried to relax and make it as easy as possible for him to endure it. He cycled down his optics, shut off his ears and endured it. Just endured it. Endured the pain, the humiliation and the hatred he felt. Not only for the mech but also himself. That he wasn’t strong enough. Couldn’t beg him to stop.

Dirty. He felt dirty.

When the mech finished inside him, Sideswipe felt empty. Left with nothing. He cycled up his optics and ears and then the first blow hit him in the face.

“Turn around, bitch”. And Sideswipe did, facing a smirking Bluestreak.

_Bluestreak?_

_Bluestreak?_

_BLUESTREAK?_

Sweet, babbling Bluestreak. The mech who could never harm a fly unless it harmed him.

Sideswipe sat in a puddle of his own blood, staring at him in shock.

Sideswipe’s world was getting out of hinges. This was not real. This could be not real. He could not have been raped by Bluestreak. Bluestreak, who was just grinning as if he did nothing. Who sometimes talked a bit too much, but was nice to everyone.

“This should teach you to never trust too easy. I’m capable of a lot more than you think, slut. You've always looked down on me like everyone else", he stood up and wandered few steps away.

"The young, innocent Praxian who couldn't harm anyone even if he wanted to. Who would never turn on their comrad", the doorwings Sideswipe once found so pretty were fluttering with anticipation and Bluestreak stood in front of the other wall.

"But you know what", he spun around with force and made his way to Sideswipe, "you were the worst. Always treating me like a youngling, like something less. I don't see anything special in you; you're as worthy as dirt on the streets"

"The next time you try to manipulate me into thinking you're somehow worthy of anything, I will not leave you alone" with that, he threw Sideswipe’s interface cover at him and left unceremoniously, shutting the door behind him.

Sideswipe suddenly felt very sober and he robbed under the spray of solvent with his interface cover in his hands, trying to wash of the energon and shame. He felt used and dirty and for the first time in a while, he cried.

 

**Sideswipe did not talk to anyone about it.**

It wasn’t about that he was scared of facing Bluestreak’s “consequences”. It was the fact, that e was sure that no one would believe him. “As if Bluestreak could do _that_ , stop making up stories to get attention”, he could already hear the other’s voices. With being manipulative and charming came also the fact that nobody believed you. Never.

So he sucked it up at day, avoiding Bluestreak and pretty much everyone as good as he could, recharging in his own quarters alone for the first time in years. He tried to do his work as best as he could, but his valve wouldn’t stop bleeding and he was pretty sure Bluestreak has broken something in his gestation tank, even though he didn’t know how. He tried to wash between the shifts, but the energon would stop pooling and he was also pretty sure that the rips in his valve were getting worse every time he moved.

He managed to continue with his behaviour for week or so, Ratchet and Sunstreaker becoming suspicious already, before his monthly maintenance check was due. He hated those anyway, but since he couldn’t avoid it forever, he went.

When he arrived in the Med bay, Ratchet seemed pretty happy to see him there and tried to go for a hug (something Sideswipe would normally never refuse), but Sideswipe just went straight ahead and sat himself down on the examination desk. Ratchet mustered him quietly after that, arching up one eyebrow.

“Think you’d like to tell me what bit you?”, Sideswipe gruntled.

“Nothing, just had a bad day”, Ratchet arched his eyebrow again, but said nothing and started with his maintenance check. Everything went pretty smoothly, even though Sideswipe seemed to be really out of it, zooming out and staring at the wall the entire time.

“Okay, you seem pretty fine from what I could get, but I’d like you to open your interface covers for a valve and spike examination”, when Sideswipe heard the words “interfacing covers” and “valve examination” his panic spiked through the roof.

“V-valve examination?”. “Yes, a normal valve examination, Sideswipe. Just like everytime”. Sideswipe swallowed loudly.

“B-but is it really that necessary? I haven’t interfaced with anyone since the last check up and-”, Ratchet shut him up with a crude gesture. “I for sure know that that’s not true, since I was one of your interfacing partners, so open up and shut it”. Sideswipe knew he was doomed. Knew he couldn’t hide it anymore, so he searched the command for opening his interfacing panel and with a screeching sound, it did (because he had to get it back in the hinges himself) and a puddle of energon gathered underneath his aft immediately.

Ratchet knew there was something wrong and when he took a look at Sideswipe’s face and saw that he was crying, he swore to get revenge on the mech who did that.

“Sideswipe,”, Ratchet asked softly, getting a soft cloth to clean up the energon and get a better look at the wounds, “were you raped?”. He looked Sideswipe back in the eyes and saw the humiliation in his optics.

Between sobs and tears, he nodded.

“By who?”

The answer almost went unheard in between the sobs.

“B-Bluestreak”.

“But _why_ didn’t you tell us?”, now Sideswipe looked up at him and only began to cry harder.

“Becaus-because I thought yo-you wouldn’t believe me and because I-I couldn't say no”.

 

 **A day later**.

Ratchet had directly called an emergency meeting with all officers and well, Bluestreak, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. Sideswipe was the only one of the three and the others (besides Ratchet) who knew why there was a meeting. He was the reason for it after all.

“I have called to a meeting today, because I have to speak over some serious issue. Bluestreak, please come forward”.

Bluestreak stepped forward, slowly seeming to recognize why exactly he was here.

“This mech”, he pointed to Bluestreak, “has raped Sideswipe. In fact, he has damaged him so vastly that I had to remove Sideswipes gestation tank and repair it, because he cracked a fuel line close to it and also broke the opening when he raped him in the washracks last wednesday”.

If Sideswipe hadn’t been sitting with his face towards Bluestreak’s back, he would have seen a facial expression of pure horror.

“And if you don’t believe me, there are recordings. Red Alert, would you please play the recordings I send you just now?”.

Sideswipe wasn't sure if he should be happy. Bluestreak was getting his punishment, that was sure. But-but it didn't feel  _fair_. It didn't feel like the relief Sideswipe has awaited. Didn't feel like Bluestreak would regret anything. Didn't feel like he'd learn from it. 

Bluestreak would be away for a while, that was sure. And he'd probably never be let anywhere near to Sideswipe. Sideswipe could probably avoid him forever, at least physically. But Bluestreak would always be there  _mentally_. Sideswipe still felt his imaginary hands raking over his interface panel. Still heard the humiliating words Bluestreak whispered to him in his sleep. He might escaped Bluestreak hands, but he'd never escape the voices in his head he had left behind. 

Sideswipe shuddered as he felt his touch in his shoulder again. He had to hold himself back hard from cringing as his tormentor declared loudly that he'd admit to everything the clip might show and that he'd accept and deserve every punishment they might inflict on him. But Sideswipe knew better. He might have fooled everyone else, but not him. He has seen the  _real_ Bluestreak. The monster. He knew it was all a facade.

Sideswipe turned his head back to the screen, watching Bluestreak from the corner of his optics. He knew that Bluestreak was smiling; a tiny, disgusting, obnoxious grin of victory. Sideswipe felt it in every part of his plating, felt the claws crawling underneath his armour and the presence looming above him. Bluestreak clenched a fist in victory. 

And even though Sideswipe wasn't the one being punished, Bluestreak knew he'd still won.


End file.
